Not Another Pink Main Character
by Trapezoidal23
Summary: An insignificant little being resigned to a short, pointless life in prison finds himself exactly where he thought he'd be- and mildly okay with it.
1. Prison of the Mind

コヒ

It's been a while since my giant's friend took me from the shelf.

I was born in a glass prison, a paradise with no way out. My first memory consisted of the breaking of my bubble and then my father's voice. "My youngest," he said. "You have awakened." Blue flooded my vision.

The ground held small rocks and what vegetation was present did not grow. It did not yield to picks or biting but it was soft and good for shelter and hiding.

There were several rock formations, my favorite of which was a decrepit thing my father told me the giants called "castle." It held many secret nooks and crannies for the child me to hide in and was private compared to the rest of the public sanctuary space.

I was the last one of my batch, the last of a generation, the last to be born and the youngest of my family.

A beautiful ancient one of blood red spots and a span of greys, my father was the largest force in my tiny life. Though powerful in mind and body, he was hunchbacked and losing color, turning greyer with each passing day, each passing hour. His eyes held secrets of the world's cruelty that he did not share with us. He told me in the few weeks we spent with him what my brothers and sisters and I should know about after we were to be taken from him, just like all the other children he'd sired. Countless hatchlings, some dying from the confined living conditions we'd been brought up in. Outbreaks of rot. Genetically predisposed kidney failure. The gold mist. "There is not much," he said, his eyes clouding over, focusing on something beyond, "Small living spaces. A small life inside small glass walls." His old eyes came back to the moment and told me the cold hard truth I should expect to face. I could hear his heart breaking. "You are the last child I'll ever sire and raise," he told me. "There is not much time left for me."

I took this news very badly. I sat in my corner, curled in on myself for days. "Live well and make them happy," he said. "But know that it is not your fault if they tire of you."

I did not care for the whims of the giants. I could not care less if I tried.

I did not want my father to die. I did not want to be imprisoned for the rest of my life.

My siblings avoided thinking about our future, or maybe it didn't occur to them that this was temporary. I, however, could not stop. The impending doom of being chosen or left to die by the giants' will settled inside my chest like many stones.

The day inched ever closer.

In preparation, the giant outside the glass brought the small transport prisons and left them outside our sanctuary, the place I'd been born and raised. The only place I'd ever known.

One day, all at once, my sisters were rounded up and lifted away. I can still hear their screams as the great blue one took them, one or two at a time, putting their small figures into solitary prisons. It was not yet a day before they were all gone. Their absence became the new normal. It wasn't a full four more before my brothers moved on, ceased missing them. Eventually, no one but my father and I missed their presence. He never spoke of them, but whenever I asked, there was pain in his eyes. More pain than usual. "I know not of what it's like, but your mother told me once they sometimes have each other, living out their days in groups of five or six." That was all he would say about the sisters' later living conditions. I have never heard anything else about my mother, except that I have her eyes and one of her mating colors.

None of my siblings thought about the prisons waiting for us outside the glass. None of them seemed concerned that our father was moving slower and slower or losing his color more quickly than before. Medicine did not rain from above, for there was none effective against old age. Or maybe there was and the giants' cruelty kept them from administering it. Whatever the case was, the anger sat like a red-hot stone in my belly, anger that these giants of size and medicine that treated us like trophies and slaves and decoration did nothing. Could do nothing. My father, for all his years in the service of the giants, would die, decrepit and old and miserable.

The food came on a schedule and they gave us water when it began to stale or lower, the same it had always been.

The third eldest of my brothers, Thirdborn, was the first to receive his colors. His was a golden yellow. He shimmered with delight and enjoyed the attention. He was also the first to lose his sanity. He began slowly to stop trusting the other brothers. He began snapping, biting off pieces. He was the first brother to be taken from the sanctuary.

One by one, my brothers all received their color, a genetic modification the giants had imposed upon us. Blue, green, yellow. Black, red, orange. One by one, they became too angry to be around. One by one, they were removed from the sanctuary. A great blue hand came from the heavens and caught them, taking them away to another glass prison.

There were not many of us left when I finally began to receive my color and, however dull it was, I could not stop myself from snapping at the few who came near. After a while, I could not bring myself to look at anyone without feeling an unprompted, archaic anger. I hid in a corner, behind a hill of gravel. I did not want to be taken away. I was convinced that if I could somehow resist the call of the colors, resist the primal, territorial urges, resist the genetic predisposition that had been handed down through all my ancestors, I would somehow be allowed to stay with my father, the only other one I knew that was sentient and self aware enough to answer my questions or admit his theories about their possible answers. "Why do they stare at us so? How long have you been here? What is my mother like?"

My brothers, even before their colors came, could not hold a conversation with me. They did not understand how I could wonder such things or why in the world I'd like to know their answers or any answers at all. What did it matter when the sanctuary was a paradise and provided for all of our needs when they arose? They spent their days preening and looking at themselves, admiring their own color before the anger overtook them.

I could hardly bear to look at myself. I did not want the spots that looked like my father, or what my father said were my mother's fin colors. I did not want those thoughts that controlled my actions and ruled against my will. I did not want to leave my father. I did not want to leave the safety and familiarity of the sanctuary.

"My son," my father said once, sensing my inner turmoil after I received my colors and before I was taken, "Do not scream and cry when you leave this place. You are not like your brothers. You know what is to come. You know that this is how things must be. Not one of your siblings thus far have asked me the questions you have. I will teach you what I know and you must promise me, swear to me, child, that you will not let others be born into our situation."

I swore to him on my life I'd never sire a child. Not while our people lived in captivity so.

He seemed more at peace after I said this and started teaching me the language of the giants, started from the symbols on the food kept in a large prison container just outside the sanctuary glass.

That is how I came to understand giant writing.

Their words were still too fast and low for me to understand, but their writing? Devilishly simple to figure out, once my father laid the groundwork. We passed many days and nights like that, learning the figures and supposed meanings. It almost made me forget about what was to come.

Finally, my father, older than before and more grey, said, "I've taught you all I know, young one. You will be taken soon. I can feel it in my bones. You've grown into the most intelligent of my offspring and I am proud of you, no matter your dull color and small stature."

It's true. I was the smallest, not only of those left, but of everyone left in the sanctuary. From what I could see, my color looked like the absence of brown, dull with hints of spots like my father's.

Now, I am both the smallest and the largest. I am alone.

My father settled on the floor, on the gravel near the remains of a castle in our sanctuary. His grey had never seemed so prevalent. So overpowering.

I heard thuds from outside the glass. A giant was coming. I wanted nothing more than to stay with my father, learning symbols and conversing. I wanted to know about my mother. I wanted to stay there forever.

But the giant grew closer and so did the moment of my and my father's departure, from each other and from this world. The blue hand broke the sky above us, like the forty-eight times it had before during my lifetime. Like the countless times it had during my father's and countless times during his father's. I knew it was meant for me.

"You have pushed me to my limits, dear one. I have passed on all I have. I love you so very, very much." My fathers eyes clouded over for the last time. "I hope I will see you again in the next life. My son." He breathed his last and his body sank to the gravel bed, striking me with its stillness.

"Father. Father, no. Please don't leave me here." I pleaded with his dead body, pushing him back upright, imploring him not to leave me to face the future alone. I shook him, nipped at him, to no avail. "I can't do this without you. Please."

But my words fell flat and he did not stir.

I felt despair and grief and the hand clasp around me and I was lifted up. Out of my world within four walls. Out of the only home I'd ever known. Away from the only family I'd ever had and loved.

For a brief moment, I couldn't breathe. I gasped for oxygen, but icy air overwhelmed my lungs and I felt I was going to die. But just as quickly I was dropped into a clear, empty prison. There were no castles or inedible plants or gravel. I was clearly and utterly alone. It was still colder than the sanctuary, but nowhere near as cold as before. I could breathe again. The door above me closed and I was sealed off in a matter of seconds from the rest of the world.

I watched as the giant went back and stooped for a moment to look at the bottom of the sanctuary, about where my father's body lay. I heard a rumbling of speech. The giant sounded...sad, if giants were capable of such a feeling. Although I was sure it was only my imagination.

The giant dipped the blue hand fate back into the water, easily catching my father's body. He was laid to rest in a prison much like the one I had been placed in and taken away, out of the lair that had housed my family and our sanctuary.

That was the last I ever saw of my father.

I curled myself into the tightest ball I could, pain wracking my spine and pushing my muscles burning to their limit. I cursed the giants and their cruel will. I lashed out at

I don't know how long my fit of rage lasted, only that the giant came and went twice in the time it took me to grieve anger at the loss of my father. I was left empty and sad and exhausted, still quite alone on the floor of my prison. My nose and head hurt where I'd pounded the clear walls. If death had offered to take me, I would have gone gladly with her to see my father.

My prison was much, much smaller than the sanctuary. Circular, with a radius and depth of about twice my length. It was barely enough room to breathe. It wasn't only a physical prison, it was a prison of the spirit. Here, I could do less than nothing. I know at some point, very soon after the death of my father, the giant moved me to a shelf.

There were so many prisons exactly like mine, both above and below me. I could feel their frustration, but none of them seemed to understand how hopeless the whole situation truly was. They would be sold off like so many pieces of decoration and confined to a large tank, doomed to procreate until they passed on to the next world. I was convinced this was what my fate would be, should I be taken from the shelf and outside into the great grey slate. That is what I saw from my shelf, a grey slate. Light came in, but dimmed every few hours. I learned to tell time. I know for certain I spent twenty-three days upon the shelf. No hiding places, no darkness, no warmth. I spent most of it on the floor of my enclosure, watching.

Until an unusually tall giant walked past, stopped, and looked at me. _Fathers above, no. Please, no!_

But my opinion did not matter. They did not hear me. The transaction was made. The giant of the pet store placed me inside a brown bag and I was taken away, just like so many before me.

コヒ

**AN: this is 11.2% a fun little exploration of the disastrous life of saiki post series, 9.8% a ****PSA about bettas, and 99.3% dedicated to my oldest child, William Shookspeared, who died last month bc he had these weird goldish bumps on his sides, gills, and fins that none of my fedicine seemed to be effective against. he is survived by Jim, Nameless, Zelda, and Charles (all adopted siblings), but william was the oldest and my most precious. he was such a good boy. rest well, will**

**-tz**


	2. Good Grief

コヒ

Kusuo didn't fully understand the present in front of him. Or rather, he did, but he didn't want to accept it. He looked at his mother, to Nendo, and back to his mother. "A fish?" he said aloud, finally. He was pretty sure he said it out loud. Since he'd used the Permanant Out Of Power antenna (also made by his brother), it was strange to use his vocal cords instead of his telepathy.

His mother gave a warm smile. "I couldn't resist! He looked so lonely and when Nendo said you'd been looking lonely too, it was like it was meant to be, Ku! Look, his color even matches your hair!"

It was...almost true. The betta fish inside the water container seemed like he could be a salmon pink, although a very different shade than Kusuo's bright pink hair. He was a main character, after all. Maybe this fish was, too. They'd have that in common. Or wait. Could Kusuo still be considered a main character despite his manga ending? Kusuo shook his head. Thoughts for another time.

Even so, there was a reason Kusuo didn't keep pets. Humans were bad enough with their constant stream of thoughts and chatter, but pets were another nuisance altogether. Unnecessary. The cats were another matter entirely— the orange tabby stayed outside and the white one was a robot made by his brother. Entirely endurable.

A fish, however...

Kusuo looked back at his mother, and Nendo. His mother looked so hopeful it looked like if he refused, her heart would break.

His telepathy had been gone since the POOP antenna. Kusuo couldn't think of any other reason not to accept it. Good grief. He'd keep it to make his mother happy. "Thank you, mom," he said simply.

His mother squealed in delight as Nendo clapped him on the back, "See, Mrs. Saiki's mom? I told ya. He's my best buddy, after all. Here, I'll help you get him settled. What are you going to name him? He seems like a Rikki kinda guy."

Kusuo rolled his eyes, but let Nendo take the fish upstairs. He sat on his bed while Nendo rattled off a laundry list of requirements the fish needed. "You shouldn't use tap water because it's got all this bad stuff for fish like chlorine and gross stuff, that's why you have to use water conditioner. That's this yellow bottle here. A tablespoon goes a long way. Just let the water sit for a few minutes and it'll be okay to put little Rikki in, but if he starts getting lethargic you should probably put in a heater, too, tropical fish like him usually need a water temperature above..."

Kusuo heard about half of what Nendo said, looking at the fish in the container. This could have been done in seconds with his powers, telekinesis to fill the five gallon tank and pyrokinesis to heat it to the perfect temperature. But he'd also not want to risk cooking the fish alive. His mother had looked so hopeful at him finally getting a pet.

He'd do his best to keep it alive, even without his powers. Kusuo looked at the pale pink fish. It looked back at him.

If he'd still had his telepathy, he could've heard exactly what the fish was thinking. Without it, he was left to speculate. Having never had a fish before, he could only guess. The fish looked... alone. Not just alone. Spiritless.

At first, when he'd used the POOP antenna (a name he was still firmly ashamed of), Kusuo's powers had been completely taken away. But since the "OP" part of the "OP main character" couldn't be totally taken away, he'd still had the _capability_ to become a psychic. And he had. Little by little. His current power level was absolutely nothing compared to before, but it was still more endurable than being the most powerful being in this and the next four universes. What powers he could cultivate were bent toward the "receiving" powers- hearing people's thoughts (only when he concentrated), reading past events on things (he'd taken up wearing the gloves again), and the occasional prophecy, which were nowhere near as catastrophic as they had been in the past; the last one had been his father forgetting an umbrella.

Kusuo focused what little psychic power he had on it, holding it up in front of his face. The fish itself faded from pink to gross yellow-brown, with its fins short and black at the edges. Its gills were dark colored, too and it looked like the water hadn't been changed in a while. From what Nendo said, that wasn't healthy for the fish.

Sadness seemed to radiate from the little container and Kusuo jerked back, rattling the container, unused to feeling the feelings of others after little over two months without the full use of his powers. Nendo noticed.

"Heyyy, don't do that, buddy, you'll scare him. He's a fish. He's not used to moving around so much and their bodies aren't used to such sudden water pressure changes. Look, this is how you help him adjust to his water pH." Nendo took the container and set it beside the larger aquarium. The black gravel would be a good contrast to the ugly little fish. Mildly aesthetically pleasing. It would be a good addition to his desk, Kusuo decided, kneeling down beside Nendo, who was dropping slow spoonfuls of water from the aquarium into the plastic container and watching the fish for any odd signs.

Kusuo got a complete picture of how this small thing felt.

The fish in question was curious about his new surroundings, yes, but not enough to look around. His heart was still heavy from the death of his father, even though it had been almost a month since the elder had passed. His colors had started to come in more brilliantly now, but with the caretaker giant becoming more and more lax in his habits with those on the shelf, the water had gone foggy and low and his fins hurt constantly. As a result, his color was stunted and completely wrong in some places.

One of his father's charges, "live well" sat with his thoughts constantly. How could he live well when he was surely going to die a slow, miserable death? It wasn't like he wanted to be alive anyway. What was this cruel irony of the giants that they made him suffer and want to die without actually killing him?He wasn't even fully mature. What benefit was there in keeping him alive?

Kusuo shook his head, lost in sadness that wasn't even his.

It was a _fish_. What business did a two inch, barely sentient, sickened fish have being that depressed?

But Nendo certainly had a knack for dealing with small animals and Kusuo found himself appreciating it, distancing himself from the fish and its internal turmoil. Nendo trailed off, seeing he'd lost his friend's attention. "How about a name for the little guy?"

"I'll have to think on it," Kusuo replied, dark violet eyes watching the pitiful fish become irritated and uncomfortable at trying to adjust to the changing water currents.

コヒコヒ

I'd all but given up hope of reaching another sanctuary like that in which I was born. The water had clouded my lungs and deteriorated my health so much I didn't hold out hope for recovery.

But then the giant with large eyes and a stripe had picked me up. The especially large giant with the weird chin. At first, his expression was so fearsome, I was afraid he'd eat me and make me suffer (there had been rumors that the giants eat fish. To date, I've never seen proof of such an atrocity among my giants, but the rumors, I'm sure, persist). But he simply transported me to this new place, which I realized was to be my new prison.

While on the shelf, I'd picked up several new symbols of the giants and learned to listen and understand their language. I'd first learned giantspeak for "food," "fish," "pretty colors," "no," and a few others, slowly making my way through the language's grammar system. It was a dark, rumbly sort of language, nothing at all like the aquatic languages of my kin.

When he set my prison and me in front of the pink haired giant, I'd almost passed out from exhaustion. The striped one had handed me off to another, a smaller giant with smaller hands, though less careful of me inside my prison. It was this one that had jostled me nearly into unconsciousness.

I wish she had killed me.

The temperature change alone was nearly suffocating, with the breathability in my water nearly gone already and the heat making it worse. We'd gone outside into the bright blue and grey unknown, where my father said I could expect no more than an hour of traveling. They walked through a food store with several labels I found I could read quite easily. "Rice," one said. "Coffee Jelly," said another.

I was thankful to have a change of scenery and something to help me remember my father by.

The large giant seemed nowhere near as terrifying now, on the desk of the pink one, adding to my small prison fresh water. I was elated to have breathing room that wasn't filled with the stench of my own waste. I found I could finally breathe again.

But then he picked up my prison and set it down next to another body of water. It looked similar to the sanctuary of my youth, large and spacious.

Space enough to sire children.

No. Oh, no.

Panic gripped my chest, causing me to breathe hard. My sight began to edge and dapple with white. My eyes darted from side to side inside my tiny prison. I couldn't bring myself to move. The giant giant was speaking, and while I heard several words I recognized, panic clouded my brain and I did not have the presence of mind to know their significance. The pink one seemed to be listening to the other. My heart raced. I could not bear the thought of what they could do to me. What they could make me do.

They were going to breed me. They were going to make me bring more innocents into this cruel, cruel world for their own perverted purposes. There was no other reason they'd bring me here, to a sanctuary. I was frozen to the bottom of my prison.

"See, with betas with long flowy fins, it's usually best if you have a net, but we forgot to pick one up. You might wanna do that before his next water change because their fins are so sensitive to friction. Like the plants that don't have any hard edges? They're recommended for betas especially because of how soft they are so their fins don't tear and they don't get infections as easy." The giant went on, talking about the health of this "beta," when I realized that was me. I was what they called a "beta fish."

This giant giant...was talking about how to take care of my kind? Was the slavery of my race not commonplace among giants? Was it not as widespread as I and my father had feared?

This realization sent a small (very small, minuscule) wave of relief down my spine, for the first time in a long time. My people were not slaves and prisoners everywhere like I and my father had theorized. I let myself relax, only slightly, as the giant put my prison inside the second sanctuary. He was still talking.

This "Buddy" that the giant giant had been addressing and entrusted to educate seemed less interested in what he was saying than he was to my movements.

It was strange. One of the dullest in the back of the shelf, I'd never been the object of anyone's curiosity, let alone a curiosity as intense as the "Buddy"'s.

"And now we wait, bud, he's gotta adjust to the water of his new home. It takes about twenty to thirty minutes, not long at all. How about we go get some snacks in the meantime? Your mom said something about coffee jelly."

"Sure."

The striped one led the way out, turning off the inside light (which was a relief; the eyes of my kind are not meant for bright lights). The pink one followed, but not before shooting a questioning look with intense eyes back at me before he left.

A wave of uneasiness came over me. My empty stomach howled at me. I hadn't been given food in days, through no fault of my own. Most of me hoped that my starvation would kill me. I did not want to be stuck as a prisoner here. I did not want to be here at all.

In my time on the shelf, I'd lost the ability to control the anger that had been planted and cultivated inside me by generations of controlled breeding.

If I'd had any energy left, I would have raged and fought this environment change with every bit of strength I possessed. But I was drained and the temperature of the new water was more to my liking. I allowed myself to bask in it.

It was not long before the pair returned, the pink haired giant held a cup that said "Coffee Jelly." Or maybe it had been days and the stupor I'd drowned in had made it feel like a mere hour. I can't be blamed. The water was nearing perfect. After so long on the cold, bright shelf, warmth and darkness were luxuries of which I had been deprived.

If I hadn't been so terrified of being forced to multiply, I might have enjoyed it more.

The striped giant's hand slowly lowered what had been my second prison into my second sanctuary. Familiar water gently siphoned through the top.

It was so very nice.

If you've ever been confined to a single room for any length of time, the freedom of being let out is quite unlike anything I can describe. My lungs started to clear and expand. My scales felt cleaner. The ache in my fins, that had been paining me from the rot in the stale shelf water, started to subside. My thoughts felt more like my own.

There was a large black filter pumping clean water and oxygen back into the sanctuary. Several soft leafy plants (not unlike those of the first sanctuary) swayed in its current. What struck me though, was that on the opposite side of the sanctuary, there was what my father had called an "artificial log castle." Oh, my heart nearly burst. To be able to hide once again from the harsh bright lights of the giant world! It was almost too much to bear.

I moved toward it unconsciously, stopping before I hit the wall of my tiny prison.

It was perhaps another moment before I realized there was nothing there. The wall was gone. The striped giant had taken it and, in my euphoria of looking at the log formation, I had been released into my new sanctuary.

Words were said outside my sanctuary but I could not be bothered to understand them. The lull of hiding was stronger than any other call and I darted to the log and sank into its warm, welcome darkness for a very, very long time.

コヒコヒ

It'd been almost four hours since Nendo had finished Kusuo's education in fish care and gone home.

Kusuo wasn't sure if the fish was supposed to have come out by now or not. By concentrating for short periods of time on the general vicinity of the tank, he could pick up a general air of contentment from the log decoration. That was something to be happy about, right? The fish wasn't panicking anymore, at least. The water change alone seemed to have lifted his spirits immensely. Kusuo found himself surprised he was investing so much weight into this small thing. Did non-formerly-former psychic people worry over their pets so? Was this normal?

Kusuo decided it was fine. He picked up the book he'd been skimming through. It wasn't interesting, but it was better than sitting and wondering over a fish.

He had to admit though, it was nice sensing another being's presence in the room. It wasn't that he could hear anyone's thoughts but with the increase of his powers from nothing, it had been incredibly disconcerting to discover that he could no longer keep track of everyone within the 200 meter radius. It was nice at first not having to listen to the dozens of streams of thought, but having an ever rising amount of Nendos around constantly wore him down.

Normal people had it rough if they were all Nendos to each other. It was still exhausting to be around normal people.

But somehow this one small, confined presence of a being that could make no demands and wouldn't chatter aimlessly through his mind was enough. Enough to keep the subtle loneliness that had been creeping into his chest away.

コヒ コヒ

**AN: i have a bunch written. i posted more. come get yall juice**

**\- tz**


	3. コーヒ Means Coffee According to Google

コヒ

It was some time before I left the warm darkness of my log. I didn't want to leave. It was such a perfect log. It still is.

I sat at the entrance, observing my surroundings before I left its safety and comfort. The plants were still where I'd seen them earlier. The black filter still streamed clean, oxygen-rich water. There was a certain stillness, not just within the sanctuary of water but in the entire gargantuan room.

As I slowly ventured out, I saw through a glass orifice, a "window," that the blue unknown had dimmed to a purple-orange. I hadn't realized that the blue unknown could change colors. For a few moments, I was entranced. Beautiful.

It took a few more moments for me to look around and spot the giant, reclined on a bed and reading a book not unlike the ones I'd seen the giant of the shelf flip through. The one the pink haired giant held seemed to read less about the breeding habits of giants than the giant of the shelf did, but that's only my guess. The books were called magazines or books or manga. I do not know the difference and I am rarely able to see each ones' content, especially here (unlike a the pet store, where I was stationed in the back of a shelf next to where the giant sat for hours on end).

The stillness of the room calmed me. I'd been afraid there would be more bright lights and more giants and more chaos here, but my fears were assuaged by the stillness and peace of the room. There was one light but it was near the giant's bed, nowhere near my sanctuary. It made me unspeakably happy.

I ventured further from my log to get a better look at my new giant caretaker.

As if he'd sensed me, he looked up. The same violet gaze from earlier met my eyes. Not just my sanctuary; my eyes.

In aquatic culture, eye contact is a high mark of disrespect or severe rebuke due to the difficulty of the finned to make eye contact, having one eye on either side of the body and speech consisting of a fin signage. There is no verbal speech under water; sound travels too fast to contain any sort of spoken language.

The eye contact deeply unsettled me. Fear began to creep down my spine once again. The giant set the pages aside and rose, looking to my sanctuary. I couldn't bring myself to move. My stomach lurched. All the food I hadn't eaten in the past few days suddenly seemed more than I could take. My mind could not fathom the horrors that would be wrought upon me if I kept eye contact, but I was trapped. Even if I could move, there was no escaping this glass prison.

The giant stopped. He turned back to his desk and rummaged, looking for something. But then he turned back and came directly at me.

Something broke the surface of the water. Burning curiosity briefly overpowered my terror. I poked my head out from underneath the log and saw.

Food. It was food. Dropping from above. Oh, sweet forefathers, it was the most delicious food I'd ever eaten. There were at least six pieces. The most I'd ever gotten at one time was three. I nearly broke the surface in my haste to get at it.

The giant sat at his chair and watched with his large violet eyes. Perhaps it was my full belly, but I could not be angry at him. Perhaps he wasn't part of the subjugation of my people. I briefly stilled and flared a side fin near the gravel of the front of the sanctuary, a show of respect and gratitude.

To my profound shock, the giant, as if understanding my uniquely aquatic gesture, said, "Good grief. Did they not feed you at the pet store?"

I thought, yes, but I haven't been fed in days. Today was the first day of the five day feeding cycle, but the shelf giant hadn't yet fed me that day. There was no way to explain this to my giant.

Even so, he made an expression I'd come to recognize as disgust. "That's horrible," he said. "Once a day and not at all on weekends?"

What was this? Could this giant hear my thoughts?

To my most everlasting surprise, he answered. "Yes, kind of. I'm...psychic. Sort of."

What is psychic?

"I can hear and understand your thoughts, although I didn't expect a _fish_ to understand _me_."

There are not many like me, I assured him. I was the only one of my batch that my father could pass his knowledge onto.

I was still quite proud of this, although the thought of my father, forced to bear and raise spawn, old and sad and dead, punctured the contentment that the water and space brought me.

I turned to go back to my log and bathe in this sadness.

"You shouldn't worry about breeding. I don't need any more fish," he said.

A weight flew away from my chest. It didn't seem likely he was lying. And then he said simply, "I'm sorry about your father."

I did not know what to say. No one, least of all a giant, had ever given me their condolences before.

It was a sort of comfort, knowing that this giant, the same kind that possessed life-saving medicine and nearly infinite quantities of food, cared that I mourned the loss of my father.

Thank you, I finally managed to reply.

The giant merely nodded at me and rose, returning to his bed to read once again.

I did the same, to my log to rest.

コヒコヒ

My kind do not sleep. We cycle through periods of more and less activity, usually coinciding with that of the light and darkness from the great unknown. The giant, who had introduced himself to me as "Kusuo Saiki" or "Just Kusuo is Fine," had similar cycles.

I spent the majority of the daytime in my log, grateful for the refuge from the bright window light and the majority of the nighttime watching my giant, who usually laid still in his bed.

I'd learned much in the few days I'd been in his abode. He taught me about his family, how both his parents lived together in harmony (most of the time). I was incredulous at this; how did they not kill each other? Did giants not have the same territorial instincts as my kind? "Well, yes and no. We don't usually kill each other. Most of the time, we just ask the other person to leave," he replied. "That's probably strange to you," he added after a moment of contemplation.

Strange, indeed, I agreed. Giants, or "humans" as I'd come to learn they called themselves, were stranger than even my father had thought.

The variety and oddity of humans filled my thoughts during the hours of the day my giant was absent. I also explored my sanctuary, boundary to boundary. I found there was a soft, ungrowing, blue plant, a thing my giant called a "foam lotus," that floated below the surface of the water. Its soft "petals" (another word from Just Kusuo is Fine) were softer than anything I'd seen in my short life. These petals were my favorite place to sit while I watched the blue unknown outside the window on the rare days the light was not very bright. This thing my father called the "blue unknown"- it was not always blue, I discovered. In my time watching, it was all colors, occasionally matching up with several of my lost brothers' colors. There was an orange that appeared often, during what Just Kusuo is Fine had said was "sunrise" and "sunset."

Other days, I did not sleep (or at least, what Just Kusuo is Fine had described to me as sleep), but I did rest inside my log for long periods of time, usually positioned to be able to still see what was going on outside my sanctuary. Time passed more quickly when I let my mind drift from one train of thought to the next without hindrance or help.

Sometimes, my giant would write at the desk on which I was situated. I was told what he was doing was "homework" and that he was disappointed he could no longer do it with his powers, which I was under the impression that he had once had, but now did not. He seemed sad thinking of this. I steeled myself to not think of such questions so my giant would not look so sad.

I asked myself questions about other things, that occasionally he would answer. These conversations were incredibly enlightening, but created more questions with every answer. What was the purpose of homework? How is the subject matter determined? Who assigns it? What gives them the right to do so?

Occasionally, Just Kusuo is Fine would ask a question of his own, like "Do you sleep?" I did not know what "sleep" was, but as he explained, I do not. I did my best to convey this to him. "Hmm," he said. He says that a lot. Hmm, hmm, hmm. I must ask him what that means.

It was one such day that my giant entered the room and sat down at my desk, as was his custom to do after every absence. He put down several large books which he called "textbooks." This signaled that he would be doing homework for several hours. He would not want to converse. I was perfectly content with watching, reading bits of words where I could from my place on the foam lotus. Just Kusuo is Fine wrote on the homework, as he usually did.

After about an hour of this, he looked up, as if something had occurred to him. "Do you have a name?"

I was a little taken aback. It was unusual for him to stir from his homework routine. I replied that my father called me Lastborn, because I was the youngest.

"That's not a real name," he said. "That's your birth order. _I_ could be called last born."

I was a little offended, turning up my nose at him. Those of the aquatic nature are traditionally named for their birth order, as that, when we lived in the wild many years ago, the oldest inherited the breeding ground of the father and the rest find new territory. It was an old tradition, long predating myself, my father, his father, and even the fathers before that, long before the humans captured us for their own purposes.

"Hmm," he said. "I need something to call you. Nendo keeps asking about your name and he says 'fish' won't work."

I told him he could call me what he liked, provided it was not derogatory.

This caused him to "hmm" once again and go back to his homework. I assumed the conversation was over and resumed my place on the foam lotus, watching and resting.

It was some time before he again raised his head, "How about 'Kohi'?" He wrote on paper "coffee" but changed it so that it read "kohi" and held it up for me to see.

Why Kohi?

"Because I love coffee jelly and I'm unoriginal," he replied.

I did not know what unoriginal meant, but I briefly wondered that if he'd name me after this coffee jelly substance he consumed on a regular basis, he might consider eating me, too.

"Of course not. You'd taste disgusting."

I did not take offense, as it told me that my kind were not slaughtered for food. Kohi was a fine name.

"Good," he said. He resumed homework and I my watching.

It ended up being like one of the many peaceful evenings we'd had, but this one felt different, made better by the fact that for the first time in my seemingly insignificant life, a giant, _my_ giant, knew my name.

コヒコヒ

Fish are not meant to be as stressed as I was.

It was almost _three hours_ after the usual homework time and my giant had yet to appear. (I knew this because Just Kusuo is Fine taught me to read the numbers on the "clock" on one side of my sanctuary, how it reset and told the beginnings and ends of days. Being able to "tell time" was a very nice skill to have- it prevented me from having to guess at the intervals between dark and light, which was very reassuring.) At first, I'd been worried and frantic something might have happened out in the blue unknown or grey slate, but those worries were banished by my giant's size. Surely a human of his caliber couldn't be hurt by anything outside these walls.

Which left me with the alternative.

Just Kusuo is Fine had _left_._ Me. _Alone in this large dark room with only my thoughts, my nice water, and absolutely _no food_.

The belief that I was _actually _making progress in this friendship with a giant taunted me and the betrayal sat like a jagged wound in my chest. How did I ever doubt anything my father said about giants? How could my giant just leave? What was the point in befriending a giant who couldn't be relied upon?

I sat in the deepest recesses of my log and stewed in my own anger and sadness.

コヒコヒ

For some reason, unease sat with Kusuo the moment his parents picked him up after school. He'd forgotten they'd planned a trip to his grandparents' house for a few days at the beginning of spring break.

It was times like these his psychic powers could have come in handy, but he'd resigned himself to his near-powerless state and used the other tool at his disposal— friends. It came with a difficult decision.

Who did he trust with Kohi?

It wasn't that he wanted Kohi to starve, but he did _not_ like the thought of being in debt to someone. Or the thought of someone in his personal things.

His first thought was Nendo. Pro: Nendo knew fish. Con: Nendo did not know what "personal boundaries" were.

Nendo was out.

Toritsuka? In monk prison for dirty magazines again. Also out.

It took another twenty minutes of thinking before Kusuo finally settled on a person.

He did not want to do this. Kohi had better appreciate him doing something so out of his comfort zone. "Good grief," he muttered, and sent the text.

コヒコヒ

How does one describe a lunatic, from the inside or out? Both have their challenges.

For right now, let us describe the inner workings of the chosen one, cursed with dark knowledge and totally not struggling to make conversation.

Somewhere not too far away, about ten minutes into an after-school cram class, Shun Kaido jumped in his seat when he felt his phone buzz fromn a text. It wasn't unusual for others to send him texts. What was unusual was that those texts rarely made it to his phone. It could be no other than Dark Reunion who held control over the airwaves and Kaido was convinced they stopped the majority of communications from reaching him.

After he played it off as nothing (the teacher wasn't convinced), Kaido saw it was from Saiki. Of course! Someone as powerful as him wouldn't be stopped by Dark Reunion's machinations.

**Kaido, **it read_,_** can you do me a favor? **

Absolutely he could.

Kaido said as much, in a text that took so long to type I'm surprised his teacher didn't say something. Phones weren't allowed, but this teacher seemed to know more about how to handle Kaido than I have, I guess.

Saiki's reply came quick. He was used to Kaido's paragraphs and probably didn't read it.

**I need you to feed my fish. **

What was this? Since when had Saiki had a fish? Obviously this had to be some sort of code. Kaido fidgeted in his seat in anticipation. He loved codes.

Alas, a second text followed. **This isn't a code. I have an actual pet fish. **

Oh. Well, that didn't make it any less important. Even when they weren't battling forces of evil, Kaido could still afford to help out his closest ally as friends.

**I can still help! **Kaido replied even more quickly.

**Thank you. His name is Kohi. I need you to tell him I'll be back in a few days, I'm just visiting family.** **Just give him food twice a day. I know your mom signed you up for cram classes. Feel free to do homework at my desk. Just introduce yourself. He appreciates company.**

Kaido felt a moment of jubilee.

**Also. Don't touch my coffee jelly. **

The jubilee was still there, he told himself. Just….less, now.


	4. Sibling Pranks Are The Worst

コヒ

I was still sulking in the back of my log when I felt the familiar vibrations of the door open. A stranger entered, turning on the harsh main light. This new giant had the lightest shade of blue for hair I'd ever seen, sticking out in all directions. One arm was wrapped in flimsy bandages despite not appearing injured. The other held several of what I recognized as textbooks. He looked around the room as if making sure it existed and made a high pitched noise, one I'd never heard before.

"Saiki's room!" The stranger seemed to gain energy by entering.

It was fairly late, about the time Just Kusuo is Fine would finish homework and go to sleep. This stranger was too happy to be here. Did he think my giant was good, too? Did they not see how unreliable he was?

I was, as the humans say, salty.

This new human was somewhat bouncier, more off balance. I couldn't say how, but he seemed to be hiding something. Probably insecurity.

He held many more books than my giant did and dropped them (very hard) on my giant's desk. The shockwave reverberated through my sanctuary, briefly knocking me off balance.

I do not appreciate this, I thought, as I flared, glaring at this stupid intruder.

He seemed not to catch my meaning. "Wowww," he said quietly, openly staring at me for a large blue eyes widened as he leaned toward the glass border between air and water. I could barely hear him over my growing annoyance, which was clouding my mind.

Staring, it seemed in giants' culture, could mean many things and while it could be _considered_ disrespectful, it usually wasn't meant as such, Just Kusuo is Fine had tried to explain to me. Humans are naturally curious creatures; they'll stare at anything that catches their eyes. Aquatic life was especially interesting to them.

I tried to remember this as this new giant sat down in _my giant's_ chair. His eye contact angered me, as did his attitude. Did my giant send him? There was no way; no one was allowed in my giant's chair. Or, I thought, as fear overtook me, this was a hostile take over and my giant was already dead?

"Oh, right," the new giant said suddenly, shooting up and going to search through the drawer that usually held my food. "Twice a day, Saiki said, twice a day." He made melodic noises as he moved, nothing like my giant ever had.

Were all humans like this? Was my giant just a quiet anomaly? I remembered the other two, Just Kusuo is Fine's mother, who visited almost every morning as my giant readied for "school," and the striped head friend he'd called "Nendo," who I hadn't seen in days. They both made more sound than my giant.

The new giant came back and food dropped into my sanctuary.

Oh. This new giant wasn't going to leave me _completely_ without food.

As I ate, the stranger began talking. "Saiki said to introduce myself. I'm Shun Kaidou." He spoke very fast and very dramatically, harsh to my aquatic ears. I had trouble understanding him. He said more (possibly something about the right arm? I didn't care), but, mentally, I was still in the process of ridding myself of the betrayal I thought my giant had committed. He sent this oddity in his place. Perhaps he wasn't planning on leaving me to rot. Although, with the running filter, water quality, and temperature, it would be a few days before I began suffering, if that was what he was planning.

I tried tuning back in to what the stranger was saying. "Saiki's helped me loads of times in the battle against Dark Reunion, even when he doesn't realize it," Kaidou continued. "I've always felt he's hidden his true power from everyone. There was one time he gathered all his friends and me, saying he needed to tell us something, but then he acted weird and said he wanted all of us to go to karaoke. I'm not complaining, it was a great day, and we _are_ best friends. So if he's not ready to tell me, that's fine. I'm here when he does."

It was perhaps that fish usually don't understand irony or maybe that my limited cranial capacity that prevented me from absorbing the implications of all of this information at once. I did not know several of these words and I especially did not want to know what this human meant by "dark forces." My giant, who this stranger called "Saiki," had once mentioned that being psychic, especially one of his (former) caliber, was quite rare among humans. So rare, in fact, he'd never once met or even heard of another like him ("Not in this universe, anyway," he added cryptically), save two who both paled in comparison and neither of whom could hear thoughts.

All of which meant this chattering ball of bloodworms couldn't understand a single thing I wanted to say. Sweet forefathers above.

I won't bore you with all the things Kaidou said. Not because I myself only paid attention to about half of it, but also because Just Kusuo is Fine had given him a message, which I managed to piece together after another twenty-three minutes of listening. My giant had gone to visit family and would be back in a few days. (I was familiar enough to know humans often visit extending family. An odd concept, but less so than almost everything else I'd learned about them.)

My giant hadn't abandoned me. He was only mildly irresponsible in not informing me of his absence, but otherwise made sure I was cared for. I exhaled a breath of relief, placing my faith back in my giant and grateful for the company (no matter how odd) during the next few days, no matter how talkative.

The more I learned of this new giant, the more I realized how lucky my own was to have him as a friend. He was insecure, yes, about many things, but one thing he was sure of was my giant's worthiness. I learned much in the time he spent in front of my sanctuary, although I'm not sure the coffee jelly he consumed was my giant's or not. (I'd once asked my giant, why do you hoard the coffee jelly so? "Because it's my favorite," he said. He did not offer any other explanation, but I, being bred fight and take territory, could understand the need for ownership.)

Kaidou couldn't give me the answers to most of my questions, but he inadvertently answered many more I did not think prudent to ask my giant directly.

As he spoke, I realized that giants told many lies.

My kind do not do this. We have no need for anything but the truth. Even my father, who wanted to keep the reality of the world from me, did not lie to me about what was to come. He omitted the worst of what he'd seen because he did not deem it necessary to expose it to me.

Just Kusuo is Fine also understood that there was a very, very minuscule chance I could communicate with other humans (as I was a fish). He did not lie to me. He was irresponsible and quiet at times, but not a liar. (I appreciated this.)

Taking this into consideration, I realized that while Just Kusuo is Fine had once possessed psychic powers, few knew about it. This Kaidou seemed to mistake it for a preference for solitude (which he said he understood while talking to me, a being with no way to respond) and that Saiki had been less social (for Saiki, anyway) these past few months than he ever had.

With that came a realization.

My new theory based on my experience with humans was that my giant had depended greatly on his psychic powers to make decisions, being able to hear thoughts to know people's true intentions. I'd previously thought that this was no different than hearing the truth through a different source, but the true nature of giants was not to tell the truth- it was to tell what was expected and accepted. With his powers were gone and those around him still acting according to their hidden agendas, he could no longer be sure of himself or what others thought of him.

My giant does not mean to be rude, I realized. He simply has no idea what to do. I, of all beings, should understand being thrown into cold water and having to adjust as I go.

With this thought in mind, I accepted his replacement giant with as much dignity and grace as I could for the next three days.

Kaidou's visit had come and gone nearly painlessly. I learned of what happened with my giant, ate, half-listened, and returned to my log once Kaidou left.

コヒ

The next morning, Kaidou was back, not as weighed down by many books. Instead, he wore different clothes and held two "notebooks," distinguished from "books" by their lined pages and "handwritten" words. (I appreciated Just Kusuo is Fine all the more for teaching me some of the differences in human writing. I appreciate Just Kusuo is Fine for many things, the least of which are his teachings.)

It wasn't difficult listening to this Kaidou character once I adjusted to his odd way of speaking. What _was _difficult was not being able to reply. It's very different than _choosing_ not to reply.

I found my anger on a shorter leash. Kaidou did not help matters, as he could not hear me. Even if he could, he wouldn't be able to do anything. He did not have the training to adjust the tilting filter or help my mood. Occasionally, he would update me on my giant. "Saiki got this really cool keychain from [somewhere I don't remember] and [did something I did not listen to]," he would say. _Classic Kaidou._ I didn't listen half as much as he spoke. (I'm still not sure what a keychain is.)

I found myself inside my log. A lot.

I head him whine. I heard him complain. I heard every threat he had neutralized and every Dark Reunion secret.

From what Just Kusuo is Fine had told me, I was convinced this Kaidou giant was insane. But every so often, Kaidou would speak softly. This, I noticed for two reasons. First, because he did not do it often. Second, because he was unusually perceptive despite not realizing the information my own giant was keeping from him.

Perhaps Just Kusuo is Fine had his own reasons for not wanting to be known as a psychic. Having learned about humans' tendency to avoid the truth and psychic's nature to seek it out, I had learned to watch out for it and saw by my giant's changing behavior (as told by Kaidou) that he did not want to be ostracized or set apart by it.

I am not a member of a social species. Solitude is our entire existence. I did not know how to help my giant overcome this.

Obviously, my anger for these next few days was heightened because, while I knew all of this, Kaidou did not. And while it may or may not have been his fault, it was a problem that was caused by Just Kusuo is Fine's conflicting desire to have friends who did not hate him for knowing their inmost secrets and did not want to take advantage of his powers, former or otherwise.

Either Kaidou was untrustworthy or my giant was too distrustful. Such were my thoughts when Kaidou left for the second day.

The third day of this, I was much more frustrated than I care to admit and the routine pattern emerged. Kaidou spoke loudly, I did not listen. Kaidou spoke softly or mentioned my giant, I listened… maybe.

It was a learning experience and an exercise in longsuffering.

And then my giant returned. The clock read 1648 when he walked back in with a bag. Just Kusuo is Fine looked much, much darker. When I thought about asking, he didn't even look my way when he said, "Don't."

He seemed to be in an irritated mood. I decided to content myself with resting on my lotus and observing. He came to my tank and removed the filter, staring at me more piercingly than usual. I did not know how to react and simply stared back. His eyes seemed hard in a way I had not seen before. Except for the filter buzzing in his hand, all was silent. He tossed the filter into a trash bag, which he'd pulled out of seemingly nowhere. He tied it off, dropped it, and stomped on it. The force of it traveled loosely through my tank (not enough to frighten, but definitely present) and I sensed venom in his actions. He dropped it in the trash can beside the desk and sat in his chair. It was a familiar action, but I did not know what he was thinking. "It's a long story. I'll get another tomorrow."

I nodded in response, confused but accepting. After a minute or two, he stood, seemingly calmer, and turned to the bed and the empty the bag with clothes into another basket and putting new things in their places.

He went to bed at a much earlier time than he usually did. He seemed closed to questions, so I quieted my mind and let him sleep.

Remember when I said bettas do not sleep in the same sense Just Kusuo is Fine had described it for humans? We do not. But we have something similar. The closest translation I can call it is "resting." My giant does this by collapsing irritatedly on his bed and staring at the ceiling for half an hour at a time. Afterwards, he seems much calmer.

This is the closest to sleeping I can describe this. I don't think or focus on anything in particular and it is indeed very calming. I usually don't remember much from it and it makes time pass much faster. This state is very useful for when Just Kusuo is Fine is not in the mood explain human things to me and it is too light or boring to be outside my log.

It was several hours after he first returned and I was in that described state during the calm, dark night when the water was disturbed. I am accustomed to the darkness, but there was especially little light then. My giant had pulled the curtains over the window and extinguished the desk light beside my tank. It was nearing the 00 hours. The heater tapped against the glass in the darkness, disturbing the water and bringing me fully back to the present. There was another gentle _tap tap_ against the wall.

There was something different else in the tank.

It was during this same second I realized the window to the large room was open and there was a machine piping a clear, red liquid into my water. A propeller began mixing near it, moving more water. I was immediately irritated. This liquid did not feel or move like the water my giant normally put in my tank. Breathing became difficult and I could tell prolonged exposure would not be pleasant. Did Just Kusuo is Fine know about this? My blood ran cold. Surely he didn't.

I moved to the edge, the direction opposite the pipe and propellor, looking at my giant's sleeping figure outlined by the light of the glowing clock.

Panic rose in the back of my mind and breathing began getting _very_ difficult.

コヒコヒ

_"How's school, Kusuo?"_

_"How are your classes going?" _

_"Which college are you going to?"_

_"What are you up to these days?"_

_"Studying for finals?"_

_"Made any friends?"_

Questions piled up. _Without powers_, his family meant. They didn't seem to understand he was a reasonably well-adjusted individual who could handle himself. No matter what his well-meaning family wanted to think, he wasn't useless without his powers. His grades were fine. School was fine. There were zero close friends and probably wouldn't be any until he got this slow power increase under control. That he kept to himself.

And then there was his brother.

Oh, his brother. The worst person he'd ever met in his entire life. If their roles had been reversed as older and younger siblings, Kusuo would have made sure Kusuke had never been born. Unfortunately, as things stood, they were stuck with each other.

Since the (small) return of his powers, Kusuke had been bent and determined to test them out. His brother had vastly overestimated how much Kusuo could rely on his powers and very much underestimated his intellect.

Even with the most minimized version of his powers, Kusuo was able to beat his brother's convoluted contest. Because Kusuo could not be beaten. Especially not when he had his wits about him and a minuscule amount of resources.

The sunburn was a side effect of a few minutes too long under a large Kusuke-strength UV light. Despite the fact that the skin along his neck was now cracking, he did not regret winning. He regretted having a brother. (His powers, as I've said previously were mostly gone, and, even though they were returning, the power to reverse time for different objects had not. The sunburn was something he was just going to have to deal with.)

Such were Kusuo's thoughts as he lay in bed, angrily trying to sleep, until he noticed the tiny, internal screaming of his fish from across the room.

コヒコヒ

I attempted to reach out as far as I could, but my giant was not receiving thoughts.

Pain wracked my nervous system, digging into every scale, every bone, every cell, my eyes especially. I wished more fervently for death than ever before as my body writhed and twisted from one end of the tank to the other. There was no relief. Whatever was poured in was everywhere.

I could not draw breath. Every time I tried, I suffocated more. The edges of my vision began to darken. I felt in my gut that, this time, death was inescapable.

Two giant hands scooped me out from the acidic, burning water.

Instantly, much of the pain ceased. I did not know what this new feeling was, only that it was welcome compared to the burning of the water. In my bliss, my eyes closed.

_Wait. _

_My eyes do not close. _

Not being able to breathe distracted me from this strange development. It took several seconds of gagging and coughing before clean, dry breathes filled my lungs. This was not normal. Without thinking, I collapsed backwards, chest still burning but with oxygen slowly making its way back into my body.

My body. How was I breathing with no water?

Why were my eyes closed?

They opened once again and I found I had partial control over this new feature. I saw that my body was not the same, but such was my exhaustion that my head (?) fell backwards and my eyes closed. I believe giants call this "blacking out."

The hands moved through the air, jarring with every step. Over the sound of the pain, I vaguely heard my giant curse his brother, who I knew to be called Kusuke. I did not know where we were going. I was only glad that the pain was lessening with every moment.

Then, much quieter, I heard, "What did he _do_ to you, Kohi?"

コヒ

Kusuke. He was undeniably the one responsible for this.

Kusuo had no idea what to do with his aquatic... thing. Kohi certainly wasn't a fish anymore, although pink scales covered some of his body still.

Not knowing what else to do, Kusuo ran clean water over the small figure in his hands and grabbed a hand towel from under the sink to wrap it in.

Kohi, if this small thing was him, was now three inches tall and...very much humanoid. Not _quite_ human, but very, very similar. Enough so that Kusuo could read the exhausted expression on his face.

He cursed Kusuke with every fiber of his being.

コヒ

Sometime the next morning, I awoke. Sleeping and waking were completely new experiences to me. (To be quite honest, I still struggle with it, but Just Kusuo is Fine tells me that's fairly normal.)

When I woke for the first time with much more self-awareness, my body ached with relief. The burning from hours before had dwindled down to an odd, almost uncomfortable, warmth, as if I'd been sitting in the sun for a few hours. I did not feel smooth. My skin was dry and felt as if I could move the wrong way and it would split. Just as I started to wonder why, the cloth I was wrapped in suddenly constricted and lifted.

"You're awake," a voice said.

Dry hearing and speaking, I discovered, had none of the softness or elegance of water. It also had none of its cold remoteness. I heard for the first time tiny nuances in my giant's voice. They told me of his relief, of his anger, and of his exhaustion. For the first time, I saw him without glass between us. Most noticeably, his eyes were a much more vivid shade of purple than I'd thought possible. For a solid moment, I was entranced.

"_Kohi_," he said, for maybe the third time, bring me back to the present. "How are you feeling?"

I feel unusually warm, I thought. But other than that, I'm fine.

"That's...understandable," he replied. "You've never been warm-blooded before."

Warm-blooded. Humans are warm-blooded. Fish are not. Does that mean—?

"I don't know," my giant said quietly. "But you're definitely not a fish anymore."

A strange sense of loss settled over my heart. I did not know what to feel. My new appendages, hands, presented themselves in front of my face and I stared while processing that they were indeed mine.

"I'm going to figure out what he did and if we can reverse it," my giant said quickly, noticing my silence.

I said it instinctively, even before I realized I could speak.

"I trust you."

コヒ

Kusuo had been up for nearly seventy hours in the last three days. First, because Kusuke's inane shenanigans had required a solid sixty hours of his time. Second, because he hadn't been able to sleep solidly, having woken up every hour or so to check on the small former fish in his nightstand drawer.

The figure's voice was small and quiet and totally unexpected. Kohi had communicated completely through telepathy for as long as Kusuo had had him and to finally hear his voice out loud from a hand towel was so, so strange.

Kusuo felt the same sense of loss. He did not know what to do.

He came home last night to a fish and a nap and woke up to one of Kusuke's twisted new tests. What was the point of this? What did Kusuke possibly have to gain by turning Kohi into _this_? A pint sized, semi-child thing that looked like a human? Furthermore, what did he expect Kusuo to do with it? What did the _author_ expect him to do with it?

Strange people, those fanfiction authors.

Kusuo looked back down at the tiny figure, which had gone back to sleep and sank back into the towel during his internal struggle.

Had he been fully human (which, for all Kusuo knew, Kohi might now be), Kohi would have been a cute kid. Small nose, large green eyes, and a mop of curly pink hair all personified his former fish. For reasons to do with plot and decency, all the scales that had been on his skin now looked like a rubber jumpsuit, ending just above the knee and elbows.

He didn't want to keep him awake for any longer than he had to. He wasn't a fish anymore and Kusuo, with his limited X-ray vision, could tell that he would need food soon. There was nothing in Kohi's stomach and shape-shifting took incredible amounts of energy. With a deep breath of relief that Kohi wasn't dead, Kusuo gently placed him back in the drawer and left to look at what was in the kitchen suitable for lunch.

Hopefully not fish.

コヒ

**an: it became apparent to me i'm spelling kaidou's name wrong. i think **

**Also. betta fact time! bettas aren't usually bred up until they die. i found more info on breeding and read that around 16 months is the prime of a breeding betta's life and that the mom is removed from the tank almost immediately after the fertilization of the eggs. both eggs and fry are in danger of being eaten by the parents. there goes like half my story and i'll probably do some revising but for now we're all stuck with it**

**also! netflix got another series for saiki k! i binged it on new years eve alone and intoxicated! thank you and good night!**

**-tz**


End file.
